


the melting point of gold

by fatalize



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Roommates, no fun college shenanigans though just eiji's one-sided angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 15:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20099311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalize/pseuds/fatalize
Summary: Ash is always busy, but when he's not, he likes watching documentaries. Eiji does, too, but he can't help feeling in these quiet moments that Ash is going to disappear.





	the melting point of gold

The TV in their shared apartment wasn’t something Eiji used much, and rarely did he and Ash sit together in front of it and watch something with undivided attention. Most of its use was idle flickering of news channels on a low but audible volume, a kind of background noise Eiji knew Ash didn’t just have as white noise but was actually paying attention to, somehow, constantly, even in the midst of doing something else.

And it didn’t bother him that the TV was always like this; Eiji wasn’t one for television shows anyway, couldn’t use it as a talking point with the other students, would use language barriers or lies about Japanese programs being different as an excuse. And so he didn’t mind the news always being on, and anyway, he found the way Ash’s brain worked, the level of focus it was able to achieve and the amount of information it absorbed, more machine than their TV, far more fascinating than any of the programs his peers talked about in between classes.

The only time the both of them actually sat down in front of it was in the rare moments Ash had downtime and found a documentary he wanted to watch. Ash liked books—if he wasn’t at class or some event or their place, Eiji knew there was a high chance he’d be at the library—but he didn’t seem to think one media was superior over the other, liked information packaged in any form. Ash consumed everything.

This time, like most of the other times, Ash was already in the middle of one when Eiji opened the door, coming back from his last class of the day, some general required English class. He didn’t think much of it at first but now wonders idly at this phenomenon, the fact that he never sees Ash begin one, that the only time he seemed to watch them was when Eiji was absent.

The first couple of times he’d wondered if he was intruding, went as soundlessly as possible around him so as not to disturb, but Ash was never bothered by his presence; he invited him over to watch with him, and now whenever it happened Eiji would wordlessly take his place by Ash’s side and spend the first minute or so trying to figure out what the documentary was about. And as he was just starting to get what was going on, Ash would say,

“You don’t have to stay, you know. If you’d rather do schoolwork—or if you want to be somewhere quiet—”

“It’s fine,” Eiji would reply, every time. “I don’t have much to do. I want to watch.”

It was half true. It was likely he didn’t have as much schoolwork as Ash—for sure, he didn’t have Ash’s rigorous work ethic. But more than anything he enjoyed these casual moments, this comfortable quietude of being with each other.

While not exactly uncommon, seeing a quiet Ash felt like an intimate thing, a rare, wordless thing. Often Ash was movement, was endlessly busy, one thing after the next after the next after the next, never stopping, never slowing, never bored and never empty. But in quiet moments like these, Eiji thought Ash seemed something of a ghost, with his pale eyes and pale hair and pale skin, with his silence and stillness, focused, shrunken into himself. Closed off. There was some sort of ethereal quality to Ash, in both his brilliance and his transparency, and Eiji was afraid he’d suddenly vanish without a trace from his side.

A couple more minutes pass, the documentary still monologuing on, _“…the melting point of gold is 1,064 degrees Celsius, while iron pyrite, better known as_…” and despite himself Eiji’s eyes start fluttering shut, the droning voice of the man going on about fool's gold easing him into sleep, and he closes his eyes and the voice fades out as darkness falls over him, the last line echoing in his head,

_the melting point of gold is…_

And then Ash is there, the gold of his hair glittering in the darkness—so light and bright—and he’s standing there with the same focused expression he had when he was watching TV, but he’s not facing Eiji, and Eiji is mesmerized by how vibrant his hair looks now, like a neon sign in the dark, but Ash doesn’t even seem to notice him—

and then his hair liquefies, starts dripping down around him, oozing down his face, his neck, making him disappear as the gold descends downward, melting the rest of him, and Eiji is rooted in place, perplexed, watching as Ash disappears before him, unable to do anything as Ash becomes nothing more than a pool of gold, finally sinking into the dark without a trace. It’s just Eiji alone in the infinite blackness, no color, no light, only lack.

He opens his eyes, feels his cheek against the rough fabric of the couch, his heart beating hard. The TV is off. The lighting is dimmer than before. He’s on the couch alone. Ash isn’t anywhere around him. Ash—

“It’s eight o’clock,” a voice says from somewhere.

Eiji half lifts himself up, notices for the first time the blanket on him as it falls off his shoulders—Ash must have put it there; he sees Ash with his glasses on glancing at him over a mug of—Eiji hoped it wasn’t coffee. Ash had been pulling so many all-nighters lately, he had warned him that abusing his body like that was no good, hoped he would take his advice seriously.

“Morning?” Eiji asks.

“Evening,” Ash replies.

Eiji falls back down on the couch, embarrassed about just passing out like that, still tired anyway, but also relieved that Ash was still here—and why wouldn’t he be?

Eiji glances back—but Ash is gone again. How did he move so quickly, silently?—but then he sees him reemerge from his room with a second mug in hand. As he approaches Eiji the scent of coffee grows stronger.

Ash hands him a mug. Eiji doesn’t want it, but he takes it anyway. He’s about to say something about how Ash needs rest, not coffee, they both do, but Ash says, “Studying with Shorter took all night, huh?”

Eiji simply nods.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Ash says. “I do have some work to do now, though. Do whatever you need to do—or sleep. Dump the coffee if you don’t want it.” Ash nods to Eiji's mug, then stands. He starts walking away—about to disappear in his room again—but Eiji quickly says, “Wait.”

Ash stops, looks back at him, the invisible hand of Eiji’s words holding him in place.

And Eiji doesn’t know why he called out, suddenly. What was wrong with him today. Why he was suddenly worried about Ash vanishing, how he could explain that. Ash was here, that much was obvious. But he always seemed, despite his life being busy with activity, on the edge of becoming a ghost, like he could do so any time he wished, just wouldn’t show up one day without explanation or goodbye and that would be it. Here one second, gone the next. What a ridiculous thought. But it sat in Eiji’s throat like a lump of solidified honey. Sticky, uncomfortable. It sat on his words, trapped them in its goo.

He doesn’t know how to say it. So instead he just says, “Don’t work too hard.”

Ash nods, acknowledging Eiji’s concern, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. “I won’t,” he says, and it sounds sincere but also like a lie.

Once Ash leaves Eiji takes a sip of coffee to soothe his throat, try to unclog the uncomfortableness.

Of course it’s exactly how Ash likes it—he originally made it for himself. Which means it just tastes bitter. But Eiji doesn’t mind it that way, and Ash didn’t have to give it to him, either.

Eiji downs the rest of it. The bitter aftertaste lingers. But it’s proof of something—proof of Ash’s presence. Eiji knows he’s in the next room, working, drinking the same coffee, not dissolving into the ground.

The caffeine keeps him up for a while, but when Eiji does eventually fall asleep, still on the couch, Ash’s blanket still on top of him, it’s a dreamless, quiet sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this about a year ago, when I was actually watching an 80s or 90s-looking documentary about I can’t even remember what, something science, lol. I liked the idea of Ash and Eiji in an AU cuddling up and watching documentaries, with a very soft, lazy romantic atmosphere, but… this didn’t end up that way lol. Truth be told AshEiji is a bit of a challenge for me to write, but I liked what I had already written and so I revisited it and this ended up happening. I hope it was at least somewhat enjoyable.


End file.
